


Burn, Baby, Burn

by YinAndYangOnIce



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: F/M, GTA AU, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Fake AH Crew, M/M, Michael's immortal, body horror???, but the focus is mostly on Michael and Gav, but there is a pretty graphic death scene so beware, i can't believe i'm writing these tags, i cried over a dog video the other day, slight mavinsay, torture???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:48:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5499356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YinAndYangOnIce/pseuds/YinAndYangOnIce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael gets taken and murdered by a rival gang. Which would be all fine and good, except the crew has to watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn, Baby, Burn

Michael stepped into the elevator, inserting his key and hitting the button for the top floor with his knuckles and then leaning back against its mirrored walls. The mirror was too cold against the still tender skin of his bare back, but he was too drained to hold himself up any longer.

He was exhausted, had barely been able to keep his eyes open on the drive home. He must’ve nodded off on the elevator ride up because it felt like he’d blink and suddenly he was on the eightieth floor.

The elevator opened into the crew’s living room, so he didn’t have to drag his feet across a hallway or anything; one of the perks of having the head of the city’s largest crime syndicate as your boss. He appreciated that, because at this particular moment, the perks seemed few and far between.

He didn’t have to look to know Gavin was sleeping on the couch, waiting for him. He smiled tiredly, though it quickly vanished when he stepped out into the apartment and felt a sudden change in temperature, from the stale chill of the elevator to almost on the wrong side of warm. Ryan, for his cold, hard exterior, kept the heat cranked pretty much year-round.

Usually Michael didn’t mind, but right now, in nothing but a pair of thin jeans, his mind flashed back to him, tied to that chair, everything being too hot, too, too hot, and it made him feel a little ill.

He was lucky at least that those assholes hadn’t known him very well, didn’t know what he and his crew were capable of, and didn’t deem it necessary to do anything with his car, which had been parked outside of the warehouse he’d been making a deal at before he’d been ambushed. An extra pair of jeans had been in the trunk for just such an emergency, and he was able to drive home instead of having to explain his delicate situation to an Uber driver whom he’d probably have to kill anyway.

He was also lucky to have left his phone in his car (although he never brought it into a deal or anything anyway, he could handle himself fine on his own. Usually.) Well, lucky was relative.

He’d plugged his phone into the charger to find several texts waiting for him. The crew didn’t always send texts while they waited for one of them to regenerate, they knew they would be able to say whatever they wanted to say when they got back, because they always came back.

If they did, it was usually teasing them, like "Way to blow yourself up, dumbass," or "That’s what you get for eating the pasta I was saving, dickbutt."

But sometimes.

All the texts waiting for Michael were different.

He read Geoff’s first (he always did,) and then he sat with his head on the steering wheel, breathing heavy to stave off an oncoming anxiety attack, before he continued.

Ryan’s text showed the ever-elusive dad side of Ryan that the crew rarely saw from him. _Wake me up when you get home. Don’t worry if I’m asleep, just stop in for a second._

Jack’s was not unusual. _There’s lasagna in the fridge for you to heat up if you’re hungry when you get back. Love, Jack xx._

Jack knew full well that she didn’t need to sign texts with her name, but she did anyway, just like she always made each of them their favorite food when they died, because that’s just who Jack was. Michael rolled his eyes and loved her fiercely.

Lindsay’s made him smile, but also yanked on his heart so hard he thought he might die again. _I will rip you apart limb from limb, I will wear your eyeballs for earrings, I will hang your scrotum over my bed and use it as a dream-catcher if you EVER let that happen to you again. Prepare your butthole, dingus, because I’m gonna fill it with my shoe when you get back._

Then, _I love you, firecracker._

Ray’s _Just blaze_. was offset slightly by the tearful voicemail he’d left on Michael’s phone, which Michael only listened to four times.

Jeremy, bless the kid, was still so new to all of this, so new to the gang, so new to the immortal thing. His text was short, something he’d probably mooned over for hours, typing out and then deleting and retyping, and so on. _Miss you. Come home soon._

There were lots of others from the other members of the crew, the “B-team”, as they jokingly called them, which Michael read, chin resting on his arms resting on the steering wheel, while he waited for his cheeks to dry.

Gavin had left several texts, nearly one for every hour Michael had been gone. He only read through a few before his heart ached to be home and his arms felt cold with the empty space between them, so he set his phone to read them out loud and began the drive home. As the robotic female voice read them out to him, mispronouncing words and completely ignorant of their secret language, Michael felt himself press on the gas pedal a little harder.

So here Michael was, back in the penthouse about forty-six hours since he’d left it, waiting for the nausea to subside. He let himself glance around the apartment, noticing with a smirk the warm welcome prepared for him.

Lindsay was his best friend, his other half, and as such, she’d taken the “Welcome Home, Faggot” banner out of storage and hung it over the kitchen. There was a plate of gelatin on the counter, which Michael couldn’t see well in the dark, but he was fairly certain one of his guns was probably suspended in the sugary mound.

Michael waited a few more seconds, just to be sure, before approaching Gavin, sure enough curled up on the sofa, swimming in one of his hoodies. He let himself smile again, reaching down over the back of the chair to tap Gavin on the cheek, just a little gentler than their playful demeanor usually dictated.

It took a few tries before Gavin blinked awake, and then a few more seconds of him looking blearily around, eyes and mind adjusting to being awake, before he was bolt upright, throwing his arms around Michael’s neck.

Michael immediately returned the embrace, squeezing Gavin’s shivering body close to him so tightly he could feel Gavin’s back popping.

Michael was bone tired, but that didn’t stop him from reaching over the sofa and hoisting Gavin’s legs up so he could carry him back to their room.

“You know, last time I checked, I’m the one who died. You should be carrying me,” Michael muttered, squeezing Gavin’s side as he did to let him know he was kidding. Gavin whined high in the back of his throat, so Michael squeezed him even tighter.

There was a moment of struggle as Michael had to juggle Gavin and try to open their bedroom door at the same time, an endeavor Gavin offered no help with whatsoever, then Michael walked Gavin over to the bed.

He placed his boi down gently, probably the only thing Michael knew how to handle gently was Gavin, although neither of them cared much when he wasn’t.

Michael moved around the room, feeling Gavin’s eyes following him as he stripped out of his jeans and pulled on a pair of sweats, then a shirt. Then he walked back to the bed, bending down to give Gavin a peck on the forehead before standing up straight and moving to the door.

He didn’t get very far before he felt Gavin’s hand grasping tightly around his wrist. When he turned back around, Gavin’s eyes were wide with panic.

“I’m not going anywhere, boi,” he said, leaning back down and carding his fingers through Gavin’s unkempt hair. “I’m just going to see Ryan. I’ll be right back, I swear.”

Gavin for a moment seemed like he wasn’t going to let Michael go, but finally, with one last squeeze, he released him. Michael kissed him twice, once on the nose and another on his lips, something he only did with him and Lindsay, in thanks.

Ryan, as Michael expected, wasn’t asleep, and was reading a book when Michael came into his room, without knocking. Ryan must’ve heard him come in, given that Ryan didn’t immediately kill him upon entry, mistaking him for someone less than trustworthy.

“Hey,” Ryan said, setting the book aside. He was sans mask and face paint, and his long blonde hair was wrapped in a messy bun.

“Hi,” Michael returned, leaning on the wall opposite Ryan. Normally he would leap onto Ryan’s bed and cause all sorts of ruckus, but he really wasn’t feeling up to it.

“Gavin was waiting up for you,” Ryan said, and Michael nodded.

“Yeah, I got him,” Michael said, jamming a thumb backwards, in the direction of their room. They didn’t speak for a few moments, there was never much to say in these moments. “How are the others?”

“They’re okay,” Ryan said solemnly, honestly. Ryan knew better than to insult Michael’s intelligence and sugarcoat things for him. “Will be better now that you’re back.”

“You losers never do like when Big Brother’s away on business,” Michael said, smirking a little and Ryan smiled back. “You been taking care of Ray?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ryan said, eyes downcast and if Ryan let emotion show on his features like most people did, his cheeks would probably be flushing. Michael felt himself smirk, if only internally. “He’s kept himself busy. We all have.”  
 Michael knew what he wanted to ask next, tried to, but his brain just wouldn’t let his mouth form the words. Ryan, thankfully, didn’t make him.

“Gavin was… Geoff told you about the-?“

“Yeah,” Michael said sharply, too quickly, nausea returning. “Yeah, he did.” Ryan nodded.

“Gavin was in a bad place. Full-blown anxiety attacks for a few hours,” Michael felt his eyes start to sting and was thankful Ryan didn’t comment on the way he started to swallow around the lump in his throat. “Caleb had to sedate him.”

“Fuck,” Michael hissed, pressing his fingers against his eyelids until he saw spots. Ryan waited patiently for him to collect himself. Michael exhaled shallowly, then cleared his throat, forcing a smile. “Just Gavin?”

“Are you kidding?” Ryan said. “Caleb had to sedate half of us, and a couple of Griffon’s crew too. I think he put most of us down just to be safe.”

Michael sighed, running his hands over his curls before letting his hands fall down to slap his thighs.

“Well, I’m glad. That I’m back, I mean,” he grunted.

“Me, too,” Ryan said, suddenly looking very tired, reaching over to dog-ear the page in his book. “Why don’t you get some sleep, kid?”

Michael, feeling slightly less like his chest was going to cave in, scoffed. “Kid? I’m pretty sure I’ve been around longer than you have, Junior.”

None of them knew who had been around the longest, or if they did, they didn’t mention it. They all liked to pretend they were either the oldest or the youngest when it was convenient for them.

Ryan chuckled, “Please. I’m so old, I’m pretty sure this is a first edition.” He waved his book at Michael, and upon closer inspection, Michael recognized it to be King James’s Bible.

“Jesus,” Michael said, a genuine laugh bubbling out of him. “You go for nothing if not irony, do you?”

“Gotta get my style points somewhere, man,” Ryan said, grinning. “Night, firecracker.” 

Michael rolled his eyes at the nickname, but smiled as he walked back out, shutting the door quietly. “Night, Vagabond.”

He padded back to his room, finding Gavin watching the door intently, awaiting his arrival.

“You could’ve gone to sleep, dumbass,” Michael said, yanking back the covers and climbing in beside Gavin, who immediately rolled over and pressed his back against Michael’s front. He grabbed Michael’s hands and pulled them around his own shoulders.

“You’re the dumbass,” Gavin said, mostly teasing but just a little bit not. For that reason, Michael didn’t retort, just laid a kiss to the back of his neck.

They didn’t say anything for a while, but Michael knew Gavin well enough to know he hadn’t fallen asleep yet. Which is why he wasn’t surprised when Gavin’s voice came quietly from the other side of the bed.

“That was a bad one, huh, boi?” he asked.

Michael didn’t reply right away, just pulling Gavin closer to his chest, thinking back to the text sitting on his phone, which he was wishing now he’d deleted the second he got home. The one from Geoff, the first thing he’d read after coming back.

_They showed us. We saw._

“Yeah, boi,” Michael whispered. “That was a bad one.”

~ ~ ~

None of them had really thought anything of Michael’s absence. He’d left on a weapons deal, lots of delicate talking points, lots of delicate equipment, and Michael probably felt like In-n-Out when it was over, so any delay in his return was attributed to that.

Ray, Gavin, and Jeremy were playing Halo on the TV, not so much playing as getting destroyed by Ray, who looked very smug. Gavin felt it necessary to keep reminding Ray that this was a co-op mission, so why was he shooting them so much.

Geoff, Griffon, and Jack were throwing shit at the wall at the kitchen table, throwing out random ideas of what kind of hit to do next, getting steadily drunker as time went on. Trevor was making himself a sandwich.

Ryan was sitting with Lindsay and Matt, watching a compilation of cat videos Lindsay had found.

“Wait, I have to show you this thing I saw,” Lindsay said, pulling the computer onto her lap. “Some sort of ski trick gone wrong, you can totally see the guys bones coming out.” Ryan looked immediately intrigued, Matt looked slightly ashen as he pointedly relocated to next to the other lads on the couch.

Suddenly, the room went quiet as the sound from the game cut out and the screen went black, leaving all three lads howling in frustration at the TV. Geoff and Jack laughed at them, figuring Gavin’s enormous computer rig must’ve blown a fuse again.

Then, the screen flickered back to life, a crystal clear image of an empty room. Well, nearly empty.

The room was desolate, the walls looking rusted and the paint peeling. A warehouse, maybe. There was the slightly orange-tinted light of an old lightbulb illuminating the room, and there was a single chair in the center of the shot. In it, there was a young man, looking bloodied and beaten, his eyes obstructed by a mass of curly hair.

“What the fuck?” Geoff snapped, standing up so fast his chair screeched on the floor.

“Is that…?” Jack was leaning forward, squinting at the screen and trying to make out the face of the man in the chair.

“Michael,” Gavin mumbled, controller falling from his fingers with a clatter. Lindsay was vaulting over the couch before anyone else could speak, so fast several people jumped in fact, wrapping her arm around Gavin’s shoulder.

“How the fuck?” Ray said, standing up now too, looking furious.

“Is he… Is this happening right now?” Matt asked.

“Someone must be streaming this to us,” Ryan said, voice tight with anger. “I don’t know how they got into our systems to show us this, but…”

“What kind of super villain bullshit?” Jeremy grumbled, lifting his feet out of Ray’s way as he stalked past them towards the counter, where his sniper rifle was sitting. “What, are they gonna ask us for ransom while-“

“Wait, wait, shut up!” Lindsay snapped, reaching for the remote and turning the volume up as a voice suddenly played through the speakers.

“Your boss made a very bad decision, killing my men like that,” a man’s voice, tinny but still very clear, and most of the people in the room recognized it immediately.

“Wait, we know him!” Jeremy squeaked, pointing at the scream with vigor. “He-“

Everyone in the room shushed him as the voice, which belonged to a man who they’d encountered weeks earlier, whose gang had had the unfortunate coincidence of trying to rob a bank on the same day as the Fake AH Crew.

They’d been promptly decimated, they hadn’t really stood a chance, clearly. But this guy, who was now stepping into frame, and yes, that’s definitely the guy from the heist, Geoff didn’t remember many of the people he humiliated but this one had put up a bit of a fight, which Geoff could respect. He’d still pound you to dust under the heel of his shoe, but he’d respect you while doing it.

“Those boys and girls you killed, they were _mi famiglia_ ,” the voice continued.

“Oh, God, not one of these assholes,” Griffon huffed and Geoff snorted from his place beside her.

Michael was gagged, it turned out, but the look on his face, the way he rolled his eyes, looked to be reflecting that sentiment.

“Your boss took away some very important people that day,” the man said, voice low and dangerous. “Now, I’m going to return the favor.”

None of them were worried. Michael was immortal. He would come back, whatever he did to him, Michael would come back to them. But even with that in mind, they were all quiet, tense as they watched the video feed.

The man went off frame for a couple of seconds. Then he returned.

With a jerry can.

“Everybody out,” Geoff said, voice soft but resonating loud in the room where it felt like all the air had been vacuumed out. Why were they so worried? They knew Michael would come back. So why did the very idea of what was about to happen make their stomachs bottom out?

“Geoff-“

“What are they-“

They all knew, they knew full well what that can was for, but none of them moved.

Griffon had one hand over her mouth, fist white-knuckled around Geoff’s arm.

The man started pouring gasoline over Michael. From the head down, he covered every inch of him. He poured it over his head until his curly hair was limp and matted to his forehead, he walked in a circle, covering his shoulders, his torso, his lap, his arms, his legs, his feet, emptying the entire can onto the boy in the chair.

“Wait, he can’t- Michael-“ Lindsay was stammering, trying to figure out a way to articulate the fact that this wasn’t real, there was no way she was seeing this.

“Michael,” Gavin muttered quietly and everyone seemed to remember suddenly that he was there, watching the man finish pouring a huge puddle at Michael’s feet, then moving several feet away from the chair and the boy trapped in it.

“I said out!” Geoff cried, voice cracking as the man in the video took the gag out of Michael’s mouth.

“G-Gav, I think we need to go,” Jeremy said, tugging on Gavin’s sleeve but not moving, eyes glued to the screen.

“No,” Ray whispered, not at Geoff, not at anybody. Just spoke it into the empty space no one else was filling with noise.

Michael, ever the instigator, until the very end, spit onto the man’s face.The man, nonplussed, wiped Michael’s saliva off of his cheek and smiled sardonically, pulling a match box out of his pocket. “I’m going to love hearing you scream.”

“EVERYBODY OUT NOW!” Geoff roared, as the man lit a match.

Ryan barely had his arms around Gavin before the Brit started thrashing, resisting his hold. Matt was having a very similar situation with Lindsay, who was shrieking and fighting him off with everything she had.

“Michael!” Gavin was yelling, trying to move around Ryan only to be snatched up and thrown over his shoulder. Ryan ran for the door, Matt, carrying Lindsay, and Jeremy and Trevor, both fighting back either tears or vomit or both, each with one half of Ray, dragging him out, all following close behind, all of them trying to get them out of the room in time.

Ryan had just hit the threshold of the door when the match hit the gasoline and there was only a second, not long enough for a breath, before Michael went up and his screams started to fill the entire apartment.

“No!” Ray howled, managing to kick Jeremy in the jaw and freeing himself, scrambling for the TV before Trevor got him around the waist and started sprinting for the door. “No! Fucking let go of me, you asshole, let go!”

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, I’m sorry, I can’t, I’m sorry,” Trevor sobbed, shaking his head over and over.

When they were all out in the hallway, Ryan slammed the door shut behind them, but they could hear the prolonged screams of agony just as loud as before and Ryan quickly realized that they'd gotten into the surround sound that played throughout the entire penthouse as well. This guy really, desperately wanted them to hear what was happening to their teammate, their friend.

Gavin could hear Geoff screaming at Jack to turn that off, heard her reply in despair that she couldn’t, that they must’ve locked the system from the outside. " _So we would have to watch it"_  was left unsaid, but felt, in her words.

There was nothing they could do. They were just going to have to listen to the sound of Michael dying until it was over.

Gavin couldn’t hear much else over the sound of Michael’s screaming, deep guttural shrieks and howls that turned into gurgling as blood filled his lungs, as fire tore through his skin, his muscles, his throat. As every inch of the beautiful, fiery boy they knew was destroyed, scorched and left without a trace. 

Gavin didn’t realize how hysterically he was crying until Griffon was suddenly out in the hallway with him, sobbing but yanking him into her chest, trying to cover his ears with her hands. He felt the tips of her long, pointed fingernails digging into his temples, but the pain felt like nothing to him.

Try as she might, her trying to block the noises did little to mute the sound of his boyfriend, the love of his life, being burned alive, so loud and intense it was as if he was just in the other room. She was talking too, nonsense with no other purpose but trying to drown out the sound, but it was like the noise was in his head, playing between his ears instead of into them. 

Ray was in Ryan’s arms, rocking and shaking, leaking, wide eyes staring into the distance, hands clasped over his own ears. Lindsay was still fighting, not just Matt, but now Jeremy and Trevor too trying to drag her away from the door, which she was banging on and scratching with her nails, screaming her throat raw as she did. It was quite impressive, not just Lindsay's tenacity, but how well the boys were able to keep fighting her, as all three of them were crying and it looked like Matt had just thrown up into a house plant.

It wasn’t until Michael’s voice finally petered out, not fading out but ending with an abrupt, final roar of pain before there was nothing left but the whoosh of the flames, then deafening, devastating silence, that Gavin let out his own wails of anguish.

~ ~ ~

Michael laced his fingers through Gavin’s, looking at the tendons flex in his hand as he did so. Still covered by skin, not exposed, not filling his nostrils with the stench of burning flesh, but alive, safe, peaceful.

He pulled Gavin closer, inhaling Gavin’s scent to try and drive the other one from his memory.

“I love you, boi,” he said.

“I love you, too, firecracker,” Gavin replied.


End file.
